


Paved with Good Intentions

by kryptofreak13



Series: Hell’s Bells, Padawan [4]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Dresden Files Fusion, Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Dark Ezra Bridger, Ezra Bridger Needs a Hug, Found Family, Hurt/Comfort, Magic, Meta, Parental Kanan Jarrus, Whump, Wizards
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-02
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:01:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25673995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kryptofreak13/pseuds/kryptofreak13
Summary: Magic/Dresden Files AUDark magic is addicting.  Even the smallest taste can be enough to twist a wizard mad.  Ezra learned his lesson, promising never to touch the stuff again. All he wants to do is become a great wizard and make his teacher proud.  But something is pushing him towards the dark, tempting him with power beyond his dreams.
Relationships: Ezra Bridger & Darth Maul, Ezra Bridger & Kanan Jarrus, Kanan Jarrus & Cal Kestis
Series: Hell’s Bells, Padawan [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1848022
Comments: 16
Kudos: 41





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I originally wanted to write this so it could be read without having to read the other three, but I think it makes it sound clunky. So for this to make sense I highly recommend reading the one shots first.
> 
> I really enjoyed the Sith Holocron arc and I wished we could have seen more of Ezra tempted by the dark side. So this fic is going to be the Dresden Files version of that with a slight twist to it.

Some days Ezra really hated being a wizard.

“Hell’s bells,” he swore, his eyes scanning the shelves. He’d been at this for at least an hour with no luck. 

Magic might be great sometimes, but so was the internet. It certainly was easier to use. Unfortunately, the stronger Ezra’s power grew, the more damage to technology he generated. The last time he’d gone within five feet of a computer, the hard drive had exploded. That had been rather interesting to explain to the poor librarian. 

No technology meant relying on books. And not ones that could be found at a local Barnes and Noble. There was something about this shop that always made Ezra’s skin prickle. Even today, though the shop wasn’t terribly busy. Most of the patrons were crowded around the front where the shelves were full of crystals, candles, tarot cards, etc. Items used more by new-age college kids, rather than true practitioners. Still there were a few customers with some level of magical talent. Enough to set him on edge. He just needed this one book and then he could be on his way.

These days Kanan was a little too busy to pay much attention to Ezra’s studies. Ever since a group of warlocks had wiped out the Senior members of the White Council, destroying any semblance of order in the magical world. Not only had the warlocks not been caught yet, but no one had figured out exactly how they’d pulled off the curse they’d used. 

That night sparked the supernatural world’s descent into absolute chaos. The White Council had played a large role in keeping the peace between the various factions. The loss of its leaders had left a vacuum of power that many wizards wanted to seize for themselves. Infighting had destroyed what precarious balance was left. 

Kanan had serious power, even if he didn’t like to admit it. Despite his scruples of getting involved, he’d been dragged in to help pick up the pieces. He was often gone for weeks at a time, chasing down warlocks and other unsavory creatures.

Which left Ezra to largely teach himself. Lately he’d been working on elemental magic, a branch which he greatly struggled with. His natural talent leaned toward the more subtle subjects. Specifically mind magic, a rather dangerous specialty to have, considering it was illegal. Best if he left it alone and instead focused on the physical forms of magic.

Which would be a hell of a lot easier if his teacher were ever around. But nope, he had to learn from a freaking book.

“Fucking finally,” Ezra grumbled, his eyes falling on the book he needed. He saw the price and let out a low whistle. Oh well, it wasn’t as if he was spending his own money. 

There was already someone paying at the counter. Ezra hovered behind him, shifting from foot to foot. The man exuded a faint staticky aura of power. Not strong enough to label him as a wizard, but enough to tell Ezra he wasn’t just a normal with a weird hobby. He wore a dark cloak, the hood pulled up to cover his face. While certainly strange, it wasn’t that uncommon to find in a shop that catered to supernatural folk. He stood with his shoulders hunched, a cane shaking slightly in his hand.

The man fumbled with his wallet and Ezra turned away to not be seen rolling his eyes. Patience was a virtue that he certainly did not have, no matter how often Kanan tried to instill it upon him. He rocked back and forth on his heels. A girl with bright purple hair flipping through a book caught his eye and he stilled. A soft pang of longing rushed through him, the sight reminding him of Sabine. Hell’s bells he missed her.

A loud clinking sounded, and Ezra turned his attention away from the girl to see the coins raining down onto the floor. This time he didn’t bother to hide his eye roll.

“So clumsy,” the man in front of him squeaked. He started to bend down, rather slowly Ezra noted. 

“Don’t worry, I got it.” Ezra said, knowing it would take forever for the older man to get them all. He kneeled down to pick up the scattered coins. They were mostly copper (who uses pennies anymore) but he made sure to pick all of them up.

One of the few silver coins had fallen halfway underneath the counter and he reached for it. His fingers grazed it, a jolt of cold energy shooting up his arm. Laughter, quiet and dark, unfurled in his ear and he froze. 

A faint chime of the bell above the door rang. Ezra lifted his head just in time to see the man hurry out, his face still obscured by his hood.

Ezra knew he should follow him, but his feet didn’t want to listen. Instead, he held the coin, studying it. Slightly smaller than a quarter, it was tarnished, its edges blackened. Some image of a sigil with an unfamiliar language was written above. It wasn’t any form of currency that Ezra recognized. 

“You ready, kid?”

The man behind the counter was watching him, his face tight with annoyance.

“Right, sorry.” Ezra poured the change on the counter and handed over the book to be rung up. The silver coin lay on top. It gleamed brighter than the others, practically starring up at him. He tore his gaze away from it to pay the cashier, but even so he could almost feel its presence there beside him, encouraging him to take it.

“Uh, you can keep the change,” Ezra said as the man handed him a receipt. He barely even registered it when the cashier shoved the book back to him, grumbling something about teenagers.

Ezra lingered at the counter longer than necessary. He couldn’t possibly leave the silver coin _just_ sitting there. It was probably valuable, maybe worth something. His hand twitched toward it. Before he could stop himself, he picked the coin up and slipped it into his pocket. 

Another bout of laughter reverberated through him as he left the store. A presence, almost like fingers, stroked at his thoughts. A harsh low voice hissed, the word quiet but unmistakable.

_Ezra._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're familiar with Dresden, then you have an idea of where this is going. If not be prepared for some angst.  
> I'm tweaking Dresden canon just a bit to fit the story.  
> The next chapters will be longer I just wanted to set this up for now.  
> Thanks for reading!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, yes I'm back with this. I started writing this series when I was rereading the books, but I took a break and now that I've picked it up again I want to make sure I continue this story. I have plans to update, but the chapters might be a little short. 
> 
> I wanted to clarify about the White Council since someone commented on it. Just the Senior Council was killed, so basically the equivalent of Jedi High Council. The rest of the Council technically still exists, there's just a lot of fighting and conflict so it's not as formal and stable as before. 
> 
> TW: This chapter is a little gory.

Sixteen. Christ, he’d been sixteen. The same age as Ezra.

Kanan stared down at the corpse that lay before him, purposely avoiding the gaping stab wound in the boy’s chest. Blood pooled all around it, nearly soaking the shoes of the encircling wizards. 

The kid hadn’t begged for his life. Hadn’t cried. He just stood there laughing as he’d been executed. Even now the ghost of a smile was present on his unblinking face.

Kanan felt the vomit bubble up in his throat. He fell to his knees, emptying out the contents of his stomach. If he had known what the wardens had planned for today, he doubted he would have been able to eat anything earlier. 

“You’d think you’d be used to this by now,” Barriss sneered. She wiped the blood from her sword onto her cloak as casually as someone wiping ketchup off their fingers.

Kanan spat out the last of the bile. “I’m never going to get use to murdering kids,” he said, a growl in his voice. 

Cal kneeled down beside him, touching his shoulder. “Kanan, he was too far gone. If we’d let him live, more people would have died.”

Kanan brushed off Cal’s hand and stood. “He was a _child_.”

“A child who drove several people insane as well as forced some of his classmates to kill each other,” replied a calm voice. 

Anakin Skywalker, Captain of what remained of the White Council Wardens, approached him. Despite his stoic demeanor, his eyes held a quiet anger as he took in the sight of the body on the ground. The past year had seemed to significantly age him. The hair around his temples had started to gray, only further emphasizing the perpetual tiredness that had long ago crept into his features. 

“I’m sorry Jarrus,” Skywalker said, his words sounding sincere. “I told Offee to inform you that you could sit this one out. I knew this would affect you personally.”

“Yeah, someone didn’t give me the message,” Kanan replied, doing his best to keep the anger out of his voice. Skywalker might be a good man, but that didn’t mean it was wise to piss him off. He hadn’t been picked to be head of the wizard’s law enforcement for his forgiving nature.

Barriss smiled in mock apology. “Sorry. Must have forgotten.”

Skywalker’s eyes flashed briefly before addressing the other dozen wizards. “Let’s get this taken care of.” He placed a comforting hand on Kanan’s shoulder, turning him away from the body. “I’m sorry, I really am. You don’t need to stay. We’ve got it covered.”

Kanan replied with a terse nod but said nothing. Skywalker gave him a faint smile before returning to assist the other wizards.

Before last year, Kanan had actively avoided partaking in Council affairs, except for the occasional meeting. But in the aftermath of the Senior Council Massacre, great chaos had ensued, with supernatural creatures taking advantage of the wizards' vulnerability. Not able to just idly sit by while others got hurt, Kanan had offered his assistance to the Wardens. Assistance being the key word. 

Cal had been bugging him for years to join the Wardens, but Kanan had no taste for their black and white manner of thinking. Yes, they protected both supernatural and normal folk, but their no tolerance policy clashed with his own ideals. In the warden’s eyes, executing this kid had been for the greater good. What they believed to be justice, Kanan viewed as murder.

Stars and stones, the kid had been sixteen.

“I don’t know how you can stand this,” Kanan said quietly, feeling Cal's presence beside him. He looked up to meet his eyes. “How can you willingly be a part of this?”

He didn’t care what Skywalker said, that was a kid lying there. A kid that had needed someone to teach him about his gifts and the dangers of abusing them. That was the problem with wizards gaining their abilities as teens. All their hormones and frustration with the world. Pop culture didn’t help. Jedi mind tricks and superheroes. Of course, the first thing they’d want to try would be mind magic. But what seemed like harmless little spells at first, twisted the wizard into someone different. A monster who saw nothing wrong forcing others to their whim.

Cal’s face twinged with guilt. “It's rare that it’s someone this young, Kanan. ”

Kanan didn’t respond. He watched as the others covered the corpse with a sheet and carried him off. Not doubt to be burned and discarded. Would his family just think he’d gone missing? Had the parents even realized what their son had become? 

The space where the kid had died flickered, replaced with the image of a broken body. Black hair matted with grime and blood **.** Dark blue eyes stared up at him, vacant and unseeing.

“Kanan?”

He closed his eyes and gritted his teeth, willing the shaking in his hands to stop. Hell’s bells, he couldn’t fall apart over this. Ezra was safe. He’d learn his lesson. Even if he should start to lose his way, Hera knew what to look out for. Signs that might suggest Ezra was touching magic he shouldn’t. _The kid was safe._

When he opened his eyes, the image of Ezra had dissolved. All that remained was the spilled blood the others had yet to clean. Cal was watching him, his gaze sharp and too knowing.

“I’m fine,” Kanan assured him, running his fingers through his hair.

Cal arched an eyebrow. “No, you’re not. You need a break. And more than just a couple of days.”

“Are you benching me?”

Cal threw a hesitant glance to the others. “I’ve been hearing things,” he said in a hushed tone. “Not everyone was a fan of you saving the kid. Just because the Senior Council is gone, doesn’t mean they’re aren’t plenty of other wizards that would love an excuse to get rid of you—”

He broke off, his head tilting to the side. Kanan followed his gaze. Barriss stood off to the side, supervising the remaining cleanup. Or at least she pretended to. The moment Cal stopped talking, she straightened up, barking out an order. Kanan’s jaw clenched.

“Ezra’s fine,” he said, his voice laced with irritation. “He’s a good kid.”

Cal’s cool eyes bored into him. “A kid whose crime was not so different than our warlock’s here.” He gestured to the blood.

Stars and stones, he wished they’d finish cleaning that up already. “Ezra was trying to help his friends. He didn’t understand what he was doing.”

“You think this kid started off forcing people to hurt themselves?” Cal replied, his tone heated. “I bet all my power he began with small stuff. These kids don’t understand just how addicting mind magic is.” He paused, taking a deep breath. “Look, all I’m saying is that you’ve done enough helping us with this mess. Go home to Hera. And keep an eye on the kid. All it takes is one slipup. I’d hate to see you executed for his mistake.”

Kanan’s temper flared red hot, his hands shaking again. But then those empty blue eyes swam before him and the anger drained away. Cal was right. Ezra might be a good kid, but once dark magic held you in its clutches, it didn’t let go completely. 

Kanan had been absent long enough. He needed to return home. For both their sakes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you like it. Thanks for reading and hella thanks to those who commented!
> 
> This chapter was inspired by the beginning of Proven Guilty, which is one of my favorite Dresden novels.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So when I first started this I had a rough idea of where it was going, but I like sat down and outlined and fleshed it out more so I'm really excited to pick this back up again. 
> 
> There's going to be a part where you're like where is she going with this? Just bear with me, I promise it'll all make sense by the end of the chapter. 
> 
> Also there will be the tiniest, and I mean small, like two sentences worth, of the closest thing to smut I will ever write.

Ezra sat at the kitchen table, flipping through various books. In his left hand, he rolled a silver coin between his fingers, the movement languid and smooth. There was comfort in the action, an almost soothing ritual that helped him focus on his studies. Ever since that day in the bookstore a week ago, he’d kept the coin on him at all times. Why exactly, he didn’t know. Without its weight in his pocket, he felt naked. Exposed. 

There had been no more bouts of laughter. In fact, he was fairly convinced the other voice had just been his imagination. Stress could do incredible things to the mind and he had been stretching himself trying to learn as much magic as he could.

And yet, he couldn’t quite shake the notion of someone watching him. Even when certain he was completely alone, the feeling persisted. As if a presence were looming over his shoulder.

“How’s it going?”

Ezra jumped at Hera’s voice. “Uh, okay,” he answered, shoving the coin back in his pocket. “I’m just not sure I’ve got this fire thing down. I can light candles, but that’s still pretty much it.”

Hera quirked an eyebrow. “You’re practicing fire magic in the apartment?”

“No!” Ezra amended quickly. “Well, sort of.” He winced. “It’s like this little ball of sunshine, but I can’t get it to form.”

Hera’s eyebrows knitted together. “But I thought I saw you showing…” She trailed off, biting her lip. His stomach twisted, well aware of the name she’d almost mentioned.

“No, that was just an illusion,” he replied hastily. “This is the real thing.”

“The books aren’t helping?”

“No,” he answered, his voice sour. “Magic, it’s not like the movies. Theses books are mostly about the focusing part, how to clear your mind and hone your will. They don’t tell you the words or anything, you have to create that part yourself. Does that make any sense?”

Hera nodded. “Kanan’s tried to explain it a few times.” She gave him a wry smile. “Speaking of which, didn’t Kanan want you to practice veils, instead of burning down the apartment?”

Ezra grinned. Veils were where he thrived, or at least in terms of legal magic. He focused his will.

Hera and the apartment blurred. The major problem with veils was that in order to render oneself invisible, one had to sacrifice their own sight, if only slightly. It was almost like looking through a sheet of frosted glass. 

“You know,” Hera said. “No matter how many times I see you do that, it still weirds me out a bit.”

Moving as quietly as possible he crept up behind her and whispered into her ear. “Boo.”

Hera yelped, jumping away from him. He dropped the veil, his focus slipping as he laughed.

“Funny,” Hera said dryly. Her tone softened. “You’ve really come a long way in two years. Kanan’s very proud of you.”

_He’s got a funny way of showing it, considering he’s never around._

Ezra blinked. It hadn’t been the first time the bitter notion had crossed his mind. Yet something this time felt different. The thought sounded like his voice. But it held an edge of gravel to it, an undercurrent of intense contempt he hadn’t realized had been there.

“I—” He broke off, his head snapping towards the door. There was a faint bit of pressure, almost like opening a soda can, as he sensed the protective wards for the apartment come undone. Kanan had set them up last year before he had gone galivanting off with the wardens, leaving Ezra behind. Only the two of them could unlock them. Even Hera needed to wear a special talisman to prevent the wards from ripping her apart when she used her key.

That could only mean—

The door opened and Kanan stepped into the apartment. His teal eyes fell upon the two of them, and he grinned. Hera’s face immediately brightened, and she went to him, the two embracing.

“You didn’t let us know you were coming back.”

“Yeah, I thought the surprise would be nice,” he replied, breaking apart from her. He leaned his wizard staff against the wall and walked over to the table. “Hey kid.”

Ezra’s lips twitched in what he hoped was a convincing smile but said nothing. Kanan looked, well he looked tired. Older. As if instead of one year, he’d been gone for several. His aura was duller than Ezra remembered, tinged with faint pain. More like a wound almost healed, rather than fresh.

Kanan’s brow furrowed as he sat in the seat next to him. He peered at one of the open books on the table. 

“Combat magic?” he asked, lifting confused eyes back to Ezra. “Last time I was home we discussed strengthening your veils.”

Ezra shrugged. “I have. And I thought this would be useful. With all the shit going on, I figured I need to learn this stuff.”

_Seeing as you’re too busy to teach me._

Same as before. His voice, but also not. He ran his fingers through his hair, trying to decipher it. Too preoccupied, it took him a few seconds before he realized Kanan was talking to him.

“—magic is too advance for you,” Kanan warned. “You could get seriously hurt. And I don’t just mean physically. Wizards twice your age have fried their brains attempting some of this stuff.”

_Yet I’ve seen you do it._

The last time Kanan had been home, they’d gotten into a similar argument. Kanan wanted him to focus on defense. Shields, veils, illusions. Magic to run and hide, not fight back. It was frustrating enough not being allowed to touch the magic he excelled in. Forbidden to use his gifts for what came as natural to him as breathing. Kanan didn’t even let him control animals, even though the law only specified humans. What good was being a wizard if he couldn’t use his magic the way he wanted to?

Ezra chose not to respond. He grabbed one of the books, intent on ignoring the rest of Kanan’s lecture. 

Kanan sighed. “How about we go out to eat?” he suggested. Ezra could hear the forced lightness in his tone. “You can invite Sabine.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Ezra saw Hera place a hand on Kanan’s arm, shaking her head. 

“Or just the three of us,” Kanan amended, confusion evident in his voice.

Ezra didn’t look up from the book. “I think I’ll pass.”

Kanan muttered something to Hera about giving them a minute. Her footsteps faded off into the direction of hers and Kanan’s bedroom, leaving the two wizards in thick silence. Ezra could sense his teacher’s gaze on him, and he ducked his head further down, letting his hair fall into his face.

“Kid, I owe you an apology,” Kanan finally said. 

Ezra stood up from his chair. “No, you don’t. I get it.” He heard the vinegar in his voice, no doubt further reinforcing the image of a sullen teenager. But at the moment he didn’t care. Did Kanan really think a simple sorry was enough to make up for abandoning him this past year?

“Ezra, sit.”

He slumped back down into the chair, crossing his arms. This time though he stared right back at the older wizard, meeting his gaze directly. He felt vaguely uncomfortable doing so, Kanan being one of the few people he could without risking a Soulgaze, but he didn’t allow his face to show it. Kanan smiled faintly at him, a hint of shame reflected in his bright eyes.

“I know not having me around hasn’t been easy,” he said. “But I didn’t want you near the Wardens. Even with everything that’s happened, you’re still technically on probation. Some of them really don’t like me, especially since I saved you. You were safer here.”

_Or you don’t think I’m strong enough to fight._

“Then why did you go?” Ezra snapped. Easy. Try not to be a cliché. He closed his eyes briefly, taking a deep breath to calm himself. “You’re not a warden, you didn’t have to help them.”

Kanan bit his lip. “Look, I know it’s difficult to understand. But with great power—”

“Kanan, I swear if you quote Spider Man to me right now.”

That received a bark of laughter. “You’re right, too cheesy.” His face grew serious. “I needed to help, kid. People were getting hurt.”

Ezra nodded. Despite his anger he knew Kanan couldn’t just sit back while others cried out in fear. Ezra had stared into the very core of the man, the Soul Gaze with Kanan forever burned into his memory. As sharp and clear as the day he’d first seen it. Kanan chasing away the darkness with his own light. A beacon of hope when all hope had been lost.

“I’m back for good this time,” Kanan continued. “And I’d rather you not learn this stuff just yet, but if you really want to, I’ll teach you. But small stuff so you don’t give yourself an aneurism.”

_Or you don’t trust me with that kind of power._

Ezra swallowed, pushing the thought away. 

* * *

Kanan sat at the table, drinking his fourth cup of coffee of the day. Last night had been plagued with dreams of the young warlock’s death, his body shifting back in forth into Ezra. At one point it had been Kanan who’d carried out the deed, plunging a sword into the boy’s chest. He itched to add something stronger to his mug, a little bourbon to dull the edges of the nightmares, but he needed to stay sharp for the next couple hours.

Slightly past noon, Hera had long since left for work. Ezra had yet to make an appearance. The kid had it so easy and didn’t know it. His own teacher would have had him up at the crack of dawn to meditate for hours before practicing magic. 

He’d been hoping to talk to the kid before heading out for his errand, but he guessed it would have to wait. Checking his watch, he chugged the remainder of his coffee. He’d just opened the door when Ezra emerged from his room, disheveled hair and wipeing sleep from his eyes.

“Where are you going?” he asked.

Kanan picked up his staff, debating if should bring it with him. “Cal asked to meet with an informant of his. Something urgent that couldn’t wait for him to get here.” He decided against bringing the staff and leaned it back against the wall.

“Can I come?” Ezra asked.

Kanan hemmed. “I don’t know kid. I’m meeting her at a bar.”

“Old Jhos? I go there all the time.”

Kanan’s eyebrows shot up so fast it gave him a headache. 

“I mean,” Ezra stammered, “to sell potions. Not to drink or anything.” 

Right. The kid had been helping out while Kanan had been away. “Still, I don’t know who she is.”

“Please. It’ll take me two seconds to get dressed.” 

Maybe it was the puppy eyes Ezra was attempting to give or maybe his own lingering guilt, but Kanan agreed.

Which is how he ended up taking his sixteen-year-old apprentice to a bar on a Friday afternoon. Old Jho’s Pub. One of the few places in the city exclusively for supernatural folk. There was no sign or anything, but whether from intentional wards or maybe just a peculiar aura, normies knew to avoid it. Kanan was well familiar with the establishment, having both frequented and tended bar there. Most of his own customers for potion selling had found him through the place. 

Despite the early hour, the bar was packed. As they entered a few people recognized Kanan, giving him a slight nod of acknowledgement. His gaze swept over the patrons. He wasn’t exactly sure who he was supposed to meet, only that she knew him by sight. 

A girl, possibly only a few years older than Ezra, maybe twenty-two at the oldest, sat at a table in the corner. Her eyes fell upon the two of them and she cocked her head to the side, beckoning them over with a slow pull of her finger.

Stars and stones. She was, well she was something else. Beautiful could not begin to describe it. Hell, Kanan wasn’t sure any word was adequate enough. The kind of attractiveness found only in movie stars, and even then, most of them paled in comparison.

This alone was enough to set him on edge and he regretted leaving his staff behind. Beauty such as hers was unnatural, inhuman. Plenty of supernatural creatures lured in their prey with stunning good looks. Like moths to a flame. 

Dammit, Cal. A little warning would have been nice.

“Come on, kid.” Kanan headed toward the back, feeling Ezra at his heels. The girl watched them the entire distance, keen interest evident in her lovely face.

“Why don’t you two join me?” she said once they’d approached, gesturing to the chairs across from her.

A voice in the back of his mind, the one that usually prevented him from doing stupid things, screamed at him not to do just that. But he’d promised Cal. So, against his better judgment he sat across from, well whatever the hell the girl was. Ezra did too, his hands trembling as he pulled the chair out. 

Maybe it had been a mistake to bring the kid along. The bar brimmed with practitioners, and while none of them had strong enough talent to be considered a wizard, the combination of their energies must be overwhelming for the boy. Kanan opened his mouth to ask Ezra if he was okay, but as if anticipating the question, Ezra shook his head slightly, his eyes closed tight.

Before he could inquire further, the girl spoke, stealing his attention. “Stories failed to mention how handsome you are,” she said, her voice smoother than whiskey and twice as intoxicating. Her eyelids fluttered languidly, long lashes accentuating pale eyes. At first glance they had appeared to be a faint blue, but from the moment Kanan had sat down, they’d gradually lightened into a shining silver. Kanan knew he was gawking. For some reason he couldn’t convince himself to stop. As if she recognized his struggle, she beamed at him, displaying pearly whites. Dentists would weep as such perfection. 

His heart pounded louder than thunder in his ears as he was gripped with the sudden urge to throw her onto the table and rip off her clothes, everyone in the bar be damned. He wanted to feel her body quiver with pleasure beneath him. Taste the skin above her collarbone, as his mouth trailed down to the tips of her—

Kanan screwed his eyes shut, shattering the image _. Hell’s freaking bells_. Gathering his will, he shielded himself from the incoming sensations. It wasn’t strong enough to completely block the girl’s power, but at least it was enough to keep his blood from being redirected to his lower region.

“You’re White Court,” he stated, careful to keep his tone level. 

Silver eyes sparkled. “Your reputation precedes you, Mr. Jarrus,” she purred. “So much more than a pretty face.” Then her focus slid away, those creepy eyes of hers settling on the teen beside him.

Kanan stiffened. “Kid?”

Ezra sat utterly still. He stared at the girl, unblinking, his eyes dilated. Blackness engulfed all but a sliver of blue. The girl’s smile sharpened as she regarded him, reminding Kanan strongly of a shark stalking its prey. Ezra shuddered, his breathing growing perceivably heavier.

“Knock it off,” Kanan growled. “He’s sixteen.”

The girl’s eyes flitted back to him and she held up her hands in a placating gesture. “I can assure you wizard, I hold no influence over the boy.”

It was just then Kanan noticed the unnatural quiet that had fallen. Every male in the bar—hell even most of the women—were watching the girl, similar expressions on each of their faces. Hungry and wanting **.** Even with his will dampening the girl’s power, Kanan could still faintly feel the heightened energy of the room. A tempest of desire and need. Ezra’s empathetic talent forcing him to feel it all. 

“Turn. It. Off.”

For the first time during their encounter, the girl’s smile faltered. Cold fury flashed in her eyes. “I can no more turn it off than you can stop breathing.” 

The ice in her tone would have made Hoth look like a tropical paradise. Kanan suppressed a violent shiver.

“Fine,” he said. “But I know you can tone it down. Do it. _Now_.” And then he did something completely idiotic; he met her gaze square on. Intimate and unwavering eye contact. He felt the tiniest pressure of a pull—

The girl hissed through her teeth, looking away before a Soulgaze could trigger.

Seconds later all noise resumed, the bar’s patrons returning to normal. A few of the men still kept their eyes glued to the girl, but for the most part their audience receded. Color flooded back into the girl’s irises, leaving them blue once more.

Kanan swallowed. It had been a foolish bluff, one that might have hurt him more than her. But if she insisted on toying with him and Ezra, she damn sure was going to learn exactly who she was fucking with. 

Over the years, he’d Soulgazed with several individuals. And while the exact details of what others saw were not known to him, their awed reactions had been more than telling. A few beings had run screaming. Another wizard fainted. Hera had cried.

“You okay, kid?” Kanan asked. 

A shudder ran through Ezra and he blinked rapidly. “I—I think so,” he answered, his voice rough. He blinked again. “What just happened?”

“Fascinating,” the girl mused before Kanan can speak. “Such a strong gift for one so young.”

Kanan’s skin crawled at the way she looked at the kid. As if he were a Christmas present she couldn’t wait to unwrap. 

“Ezra, go wait outside,” he instructed. “I’ll be done in a few minutes.”

The fact that the kid didn’t argue, spoke volumes about just how spooked he’d been **.** Ezra stood, the legs of his chair squeaking against the wood floor. He threw one last uneasy look at the girl before turning and leaving without a word.

The girl’s eyes followed him, her lips curved upwards. An instinctual, protective noise, almost like a snarl sounded in the back of Kanan’s throat and she snapped her attention back to him, the smile only widening. 

“What do you want?” he asked. His voice was cool and polite despite the anger burning in his stomach. 

“I know much about you, wizard,” she answered, ignoring his question. “Kanan Jarrus, Full member of the White Council.” She paused, smirking. “Well, former White Council. Made quite a name for yourself in the past year taking down all the monsters that go bump in the night. Impressive for a wizard of only twenty-six.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Is that supposed to intimidate me?”

She laughed, her eyes turning luminescent again. The rich sound sent tiny waves of excitement throughout his body. Gritting his teeth, he hardened his will and the sensation stopped.

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t just leave.”

“Because like I told the young Warden, I have information you want,” she answered. “I know something about that precious White Council of yours.”

Kanan straightened in his chair. 

“Yes, I figured you would be interested by that.”

He narrowed his eyes at her. “I’m guessing you aren’t going to tell me out of the goodness of your heart. What do you want in return?”

“I would like to know the whereabouts of Ahsoka Tano,” she replied.

Kanan started. That had honestly been the last thing he’d expected her to say. Actually, no. It hadn’t even crossed his mind. 

“She’s dead,” he said flatly.

The girl clucked her tongue. “We both know that’s not true.” 

“I—” Kanan closed his mouth, words failing him. He bit his cheek, thinking. After a minute he asked, “Why do you want to know?”

“We have a mutual friend who’s desperate to find her.” The girl licked her lips and Kanan had to resist the desire to jump over the table and kiss her. Dammit, he was literally going to murder Cal. “I’m only going to make this offer once,” she continued. “I will give you my intel if you swear on your power to try to find her.”

Kanan laughed. “You’re going to give me what I want, just for trying? What happens if I can’t find her?”

She shrugged. “Nothing.” Cold eyes regarded him, sharp and steady. “But I know you will.”

He took a few minutes to mull the offer over. On one hand he knew he had nothing to lose. Ahsoka had been missing for years. If she didn’t want to be found, there wasn’t much of anything he could do. But the danger with bargains is that a wizard’s word had to be upheld. If he agreed, he would at the very least have to try. Sure, he theoretically could break the promise, but his magic would suffer from it. 

“Okay,” he said. “I swear on my power I will try—” he emphasized the word, “—to find Ahsoka in exchange for your information.”

The corners of her lips twitched up. “The wizards responsible for the death of your Senior Council are Wardens.”

No. That—that wasn’t possible. 

“You’re lying,” he said.

She shook her head. “I promise you, I am not.”

“Who?” he demanded. 

The bar quieted once more as his voice rang out. He felt a faint stir of power as several patrons braced themselves for a possible fight. But when no immediate fight came, the energy fizzled out, the patrons returning to their conversations.

“I don’t know who,” the girl stated. 

His gut warned him she was lying, but he didn’t dare accuse her of that. His will had begun to slip and he could feel her influence at the edges of his mind making him dizzy. “Thank you,” he said, failing to conceal the bite in his voice. “Now one last piece of business, your name. I’d like to know who I’m indebted to.”

She pursed her lips, but gave a terse nod. “You may call me Seven.”

Kanan snorted. “That’s a number, not a name.”

“Even so,” she replied. “It is all you’re going to get. I’m well aware what wizards can do with the knowledge of a name.”

It was true. Names held power. But what most people (or _things_ in this case) didn’t understand was that it wasn’t enough for a wizard to simply know a person’s name. To truly hold power over someone a wizard needed to _know_ it. The inflections, the subtleties they uttered it with. Ask two people with the same exact name and they would each pronounce it different from one another.

If a wizard managed to obtain the right name, they could use it against the person. Not control them exactly. Well, at least if they wanted to avoid execution. More like subtle influence. Find them wherever they were, bind them temporarily, that sort of thing. Still it was a tremendous risk for anyone to have that kind of knowledge. Kanan had learned that firsthand. It was the reason why he had shed his True Name years ago. Only a few knew it, most of them dead now. 

“Fine,” he replied tersely. “How do I get in contact with you?”

“Don’t worry,” she said with a smile that showed teeth, “I’ll find you.”

Jeez why did every supernatural creature insist on the whole creepy vibe? Couldn’t they for once just be, well normal?

He stood up from his chair, ready to leave. Before he could, the girl—Seven—spoke again. “You’re lucky I broke contact, wizard,” she said, in a calm voice. Her eyes however darkened **,** dangerously so. “I’m fairly certain whatever you would have seen, would have driven you mad.”

For the first time since he’d entered the bar, stark fear filled him. But he dammed well wasn’t going to let her know that. Smiling the most wolfish grin he could muster, he replied, “Likewise.”

And then he turned and left, hoping no one had noticed the tremor in his hands.

When he got outside Ezra was sitting against the building, his knees pulled tight to his chest. He lifted his head at the sound of the door. His pupils had shrunk back down to their normal size. “What is she?” he asked, standing up.

“White Court Vamp,” Kanan answered as the two started walking. “They’re emotional succubi. They force their victims to feel whatever they wish to feed off of. Fear, despair. Though most of them prefer—” He swallowed, his cheeks warming. “—lust.”

“Oh.”

Kanan winced. “I’m sorry, kid. If I had known, I wouldn’t have brought you along.”

Cal seriously owed him one. Big time.

“It’s okay. I guess I’ve just never felt anything like that before,” Ezra said softly, rubbing at the back of his neck. His eyes were downcast, fixed on the sidewalk in front of them. He stuck his hands in his pockets, his face screwed up in contemplation. After a good bit of silence, he added quietly, “Also, it’s seventeen, by the way.”

Kanan frowned. “What?”

Ezra grimaced, pointedly avoiding looking at Kanan. “Back there you said I was sixteen. I’m seventeen.”

No, that couldn’t be right. Ezra wouldn’t turn seventeen until— Kanan stopped dead in his tracks. Until Halloween. Which had been last week.

It took a beat for Ezra to notice Kanan no longer walked next to him. He turned; his eyebrows raised. 

“Kid, I’m—I’m so sorry.” Kanan said, his throat tight. “I completely forgot.”

Ezra shrugged, his face a blank mask. “Don’t worry about it.”

Hell’s bells, Kanan could kick himself. No wonder Ezra had been so broody last night. And if Hera hadn’t berated him for forgetting that meant she’d completely forgotten too. 

His guilt must have been evident on his face because Ezra added, “Seriously, Kanan, it’s fine. It’s not like I have a million friends for a party or anything.”

“You going to tell me what happened with Sabine?” Kanan asked. “Last time I was home you two were inseparable.” 

A shadow fell across the kid’s face. “Nothing to tell.”

“Ezra—”

“Seriously, Kanan,” Ezra interrupted brusquely. “We just aren’t friends anymore.”

People don’t just stop being friends. Especially not two teens as close as these two. Sure, their relationship started off rocky. But after Sabine insisted on a Soul Gaze, she’d grown to trust Ezra. Kanan had gotten so accustomed to Sabine hanging out in their apartment, he almost forgot she didn’t actually live there. So, what the hell had happened?

Having been gone for most of the year, maybe he’d missed the signs and the two had been more than just friends. Ezra never mentioned anything to suggest they were together, but then again, he was still very much a teenager. Kanan might be young and the two of them close, but he was still Ezra’s guardian. The closest thing he had to a father.

“Did the two of you…?” Kanan trailed off, leaving the uncomfortable question hanging in the air.

Ezra wrinkled his nose in disgust. “No, we were never like that. Just drop it, okay?”

Kanan didn’t want to, but he knew pushing would get him nowhere. So instead he said, “Okay, let’s go home.”

He wrapped his arm around the boy’s shoulder. Cold energy shot through him, an aura, dark and almost possessive, hitting him strongly and he jerked his hand back. What the actual hell?

“Kanan? You okay?” Ezra frowned at him. Nothing in his face suggested he’d been aware of the impression Kanan had sensed.

Kanan swallowed. “Yeah I’m fine. Sorry.” He retuned his hand to the boy’s shoulder. This time he didn’t feel anything. Whatever it had been, it was gone.

Still, it unnerved him. The image of the dead teenager, his features flickering back and forth between his own and Ezra’s, swam before Kanan’s eyes.

_These kids don’t understand how addicting dark magic is._

No. Whatever that energy was, it hadn’t felt like Ezra. Maybe it was just a remnant of the girl’s power or some lingering emotion from a patron in the bar.

Ezra was a good kid. He knew better. 

And Kanan damn sure _refused_ to let him lose his way. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading hope you liked it. I really have fun writing this. Thanks to everyone who has commented. Comments fuel me. So let me know what you like, what you don't. If you have questions. I'd love to hear your thoughts. Thank you.
> 
> I wasn't originally planning on focusing on the different creatures, but the Seventh Sister just works so perfectly for White Court with all her flirting and creepiness. 
> 
> The new Dresden Files came out a few days ago and I'm halfway through it. I'm not okay. If you enjoy whump these books are for you


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey remember when I said these were going to be short chapters?

Ezra sat in the backseat, trying his best not to breathe too loudly. Light dizziness had begun to creep in, the blurred world around him not helping the matter. For some strange reason Kanan was driving like an absolute maniac, hitting the brakes too suddenly, taking turns without slowing down. What little focus Ezra could spare from maintaining the veil, had been dedicated to not jostling around in the seat. 

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Kanan pulled up to a townhouse and parked the truck. He didn’t get out right away. Instead he reached over, picking up a discarded food wrapper from the floor. With a flick of his wrist he threw the wrapper in the back seat. Hitting Ezra square in the nose.

“How’d you know?” Ezra asked, dropping the veil. The world came back into clear focus and he had to blink a few times, disoriented.

“I thought I heard the front door open before I left.” Kanan turned in his seat, eyes sparkling with amusement. “And you made noise buckling the seat. Did you enjoy the ride?”

Ezra scowled. Despite no longer moving, the dizziness was escalating from mere nuisance to an almost debilitating degree. “Why didn’t you just say something sooner?”

“This was more fun.”

Though Ezra wanted nothing more than to wipe the grin off Kanan’s face, he bit his tongue on the sardonic reply and asked, “How come Cal’s in town?”

He got the effect he wanted however, and Kanan frowned. “Apparently this was worth the risk of traveling through the Nevernever.”

“The what?”

“I’ll explain it later. You want to tell me why you broke into my truck?”

The tone was light, but Ezra could detect an undercurrent of irritation in the words. Kanan’s level gaze did not waiver from Ezra, those teal eyes of his impossibly piercing. 

“I’m sorry,” Ezra said, looking away. “I heard you on the phone. I don’t know, last night went badly and I just want to show you that I can handle this wizard stuff.” He hesitantly lifted his head. Kanan’s expression had softened, but he said nothing. 

Ezra pressed the heel of his hand to his eye at another burst of nausea. “Why are we even here?”

“Not sure,” Kanan mused. “The phone kept going in and out.” His brow furrowed, eyes searching Ezra’s face. “You okay, kid?”

“I think I will be once I get outside,” Ezra answered, his voice feeling thick in his throat. “Just car sick.”

Kanan raised an eyebrow. “What makes you think you’re coming in? You’re going to stay in the truck.”

“Like hell,” Ezra shot back. 

He threw open the door, hearing Kanan swear behind him, and jumped down onto the sidewalk. Kanan’s door opened and closed, but Ezra barely registered it. The second his feet hit the ground, nausea hit him harder than a linebacker, a crash of shattering glass echoing in his ears. No, not glass, but rather the sound of laughter, cruel and feminine. His chest burned, the pain so raw and crushing the world started to spin. Dizziness threatened to overwhelm him and just when he felt himself tilting, a strong hand steadied him. 

“Ezra?” Kanan’s grip tightened. “What’s wrong?”

“Something—something.” He broke off, his brain struggling to form the words. “Something horrible happened here. I can’t—” 

Breathe. He couldn’t breathe. 

“Kid, look at me.”

Calloused hands touched his cheeks for a moment and Kanan’s face swam into view. There was a buzzing sensation at the back of his head, like static from a TV that couldn’t receive a signal, but the crushing sensation had gone. Ezra blinked. Somehow, he found himself sitting back in Kanan’s truck, the front passenger door open. ~~~~

“What did you do?” Ezra asked.

“Tiny blocking spell,” Kanan answered, smiling weakly. His voice held a hint of weariness that had not been there a minute ago. “Sorry, it’s hard to do one of these without a circle. You going to be okay waiting here?”

“Yeah.” Stars and stones, he didn’t think he could force himself to enter that house even if he still wanted to.

Kanan tossed Ezra his keys. “If it starts to slip, feel free to drive around.” He closed the door and headed back toward the townhouse. Ezra watched him through the window as Cal stepped outside, the two conversing for a minute, Kanan looking rather angry. Then another older man opened the door, and they all went inside. 

Ezra pulled the coin from his pocket, rolling it over his knuckles as he curled up in the seat. In the quiet, the soft buzzing had grown more noticeable. He nudged his mind against the feeling, like one would explore a cavity with their tongue, even though they knew it would only bring pain. Sure enough, the pressure dampened the spell, and that horrible burning started to leak through. Ezra jerked away from the block, and the pain quickly abated. 

What good was this so-called gift of his? All it ever seem to do was incapacitate him. Even if he did ever master combat magic, he’d be useless in a fight. Overwhelmed by emotions. Weak and vulnerable to any strong energy. A liability to everyone.

_Emotion isn’t weakness._

Ezra frowned. It was true, but it also wasn’t. Emotions fueled magic. In a way they were one in the same, for one had to truly believe in a spell to make it real. The difficult part was the difference between channeling emotions into magic and letting them control it. Anger and fear might make a spell more powerful, but it also made it volatile. 

Kanan preached focus, serenity. He’d given Ezra exercises to clear his mind. To not give his own negative emotions power over him. Only then could he control his empathic ability. Feel at peace. 

_Peace is a lie._

For a second the coin felt colder in his hand and he almost dropped it. He stared at it for what felt like the hundredth time. Faint power thrummed underneath his fingertips, but Ezra couldn’t discern if it was good or bad. Kanan had told him of cursed objects and artifacts infused with magic, warned him how dangerous some were. 

“What are you?” he asked out loud, as if expecting the coin to answer.

Silence stretched in the truck. Ezra laughed, feeling stupid. “Losing it, Bridg—”

There was a sudden warmth on his shoulder, like the weight of a hand. Ezra twisted, his eyes flying to the backseat. 

Empty. Of course, it was empty.

The weight on his shoulder didn’t leave.

* * *

Hell’s bells, the kid’s empathetic ability was growing alarmingly strong. If Kanan was being honest with himself, Ezra’s talent frightened him. Not because he didn’t trust the kid, but because he had no idea where to begin to teach Ezra how to control it. They had tried mediating, but it never seemed to help.

But that was a problem for later. As Kanan approached the townhouse a small wave of apprehension washed over him. Before he could even knock, the door flew open. Cal, somber faced and slightly green, stepped out onto the steps, closing the door behind him. 

“Hey,” he said quietly. “Thanks for coming.”

“So much for benching me,” Kanan replied coldly.

A sheepish expression fell across Cal’s face. “I know I—” He sighed. “How’d it go yesterday?”

Anger flashed hot in Kanan’s stomach. “How do you think it went?” he asked. “Why didn’t you warn me?”

Cal rubbed at the back of his neck, looking down at the ground. “I’m sorry. I knew if I told you, you wouldn’t have gone. She said it was important and you’re the only person I know I can trust.”

His answer only served to fuel the fire building within. “What the hell are you doing associating with something like her?” Kanan demanded. “Do you know how dangerous she is?”

“Of course I do, Kanan. But—”

“Those _things_ control people.” Kanan growled. “You talk about trust, but how do I know she’s not calling the shots for you? You could be under her influence without even knowing.”

Cal’s eyes darkened for a second. He took a deep breath, his expression pleading. “She isn’t,” he murmured. “Look, I’ll explain everything. But not now. After you’ve seen this.”

Kanan’s anger left him as quickly as a candle being snuffed out. There had been something broken in Cal’s last words. Hopelessness he had never before heard from the man. Kanan blinked, studying his friend. Noticed for the first time the slight tremble in his hands, the tension in his shoulders. Nervous energy flowed off of him, as if he all he wanted to do was run away from this place screaming.

“What’s going on?” he asked softly. “You just said it was urgent.”

Cal didn’t respond right away, his gaze shifting past Kanan to the truck. “You brought Ezra?”

Kanan exhaled loudly through his nose. “He snuck in under a veil.”

Cal cracked a smile, one that didn’t reach his eyes. “Must have been pretty good to fool you. How’s teaching going?”

“Cal.”

The smile slipped and Cal’s face tightened. “Sorry, I’m stalling. It’s bad, Kanan. I don’t want to go back in there.”

Like Ezra, Cal was an empath, though his gift nowhere near potent as the kid’s. His talent, Psychometry, sensing emotional residues by touch, was difficult to master and Kanan didn’t envy anyone capable of it. He had enough problems going on in his own head, he couldn’t imagine adding others to it. 

“Then don’t,” Kanan replied. “Let Barriss deal with it. Serves her right for always having a stick up her ass.”

Cal shook his head. “It’s just me and Skywalker. He doesn’t want a lot of people knowing about this yet.”

 _That_ took Kanan by surprise. “Since when are you his right-hand man?”

Cal opened his mouth to answer but before he could, the door opened.

“Kestis—” Skywalker said. He faltered, eyes hardening as they fell upon Kanan. “I thought I said to keep this quiet.”

Cal perceivably straightened, like a solider obeying an attention order. Repulsion rippled though Kanan at the action and he did his best not to let it show on his face. Well, at least not too much.

“I apologize, Sir,” Cal said. “But this is Jarrus’ home turf. If anyone has a chance of finding who’s responsible, it’s him.”

Skywalker studied Kanan, his blue eyes full of steel. Under that gaze it was impossible not to feel like a child about to be scolded by an adult **.** Kanan resisted the urge to squirm. Then Skywalker’s expression softened. “You’re right,” he replied in a resigned voice. “Right this way.” 

He stepped aside to allow the two of them to enter. Kanan glanced around. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, other than the fact the house was immaculate. No clutter, not even a pair of shoes strewn about the front hallway. The sitting room held no personality. No plants, no pictures on the wall. Someone couldn’t possibly live here. 

Kanan turned to Cal, arching an eyebrow. And then it hit him. A faint rotting scent, similar to spoiled meat forgotten in the fridge for too long. 

“Upstairs,” Cal said, void of any emotion.

As they climbed the stairs, the smell only grew more pungent, mixing with the sharp metallic stench of blood. Kanan paused before reaching the top, fighting down his breakfast that threatened to resurface. Banging his fist against the wall a few times, he took a moment to focus his will on stopping the invading stimulus. He couldn’t completely block it completely, not without dropping the spell on Ezra, but at it was enough that he could convince himself to keep moving forward. 

Only two rooms upstairs lay upstairs. The one on the left’s door was opened, allowing him to see a rather bleak office. Or at least if a desk and a chair were enough to label a room as an office. Kanan frowned and followed Cal and Skywalker into a large bedroom. 

No wonder the kid had nearly collapsed. Hell, if Kanan hadn’t steadied himself in the doorframe he probably would have too.

Blood caked the walls, a sick twisted mockery of a Jackson Pollock painting. Kanan didn’t think it was possible for that much blood to come from one person. 

And the body. Well, the body no longer resembled anything remotely human. It lay on the bed, white sheets now stained crimson. The chest cavity had been torn open; it’s ribs visible. But that wasn’t even the most horrific part. The face—oh god the face. No doubt the image would be waiting for him when he closed his eyes that night. Haunting every dream if he managed to sleep at all. 

“Why haven’t the police showed up?” Kanan asked, after he was finally able to form words again.

“No one’s reported it yet.” Skywalker answered in a dispassionate tone. “Someone anonymously contacted me about this matter. I thought it best not to get the mortal police involved.”

Yeah, that was an understatement. Normal cops would be completely over their head with this one. And on the off chance they actually figured it out, well most likely there’d be a few more bodies such as this. People who use magic for such perverse means don’t take too kindly on getting caught.

“Have you found anything?” Kanan asked. “Any idea how they could have done this?” 

“The only thing of note was this.” Skywalker picked up a laptop from the nightstand.

To Kanan’s utter shock it was still completely intake. “Stars and stones,” he swore. “Magic like this should have destroyed that thing.” Now that he thought about it, anything technical in the house should have exploded. But the lights were still very much intact, the faint hum of the AC unit still ongoing. 

Skywalker nodded “Exactly. Kestis, were you able to sense anything?”

Cal stood leaning against the dresser, his shoulders hunched, arms tight across his chest as if it were the only thing keeping him from falling apart. His fingers dug into his arm. Kanan noticed other red half-moon markings, no doubt from an earlier occurrence. “None of the furniture left an impression, Sir,” Cal said flatly. “I still haven’t—” He swallowed. “Haven’t touched the body yet.”

Skywalker nodded and walked over, placing his hand on Cal’s shoulder. “Take a much time as you need. I’m going to search downstairs again.”

“You okay?” Kanan asked once they were alone.

Cal answered with a level look. 

“Right, sorry man.”

Cal sighed. “I mean I should have realized this is why the Captain asked me.” He waved his hand vaguely. “We all know this is why they even wanted me to be a Warden.”

“Oh no, I think it’s ‘cause the getup looks so great on you,” Kanan joked, trying to distract Cal with some levity he didn’t actually feel. He eyed the grey Warden cloak and the silver sword on Cal’s hip. “Very subtle.”

Cal punched him lightly in the arm. “You wish you got one of these.”

The image of Barriss’ sword plunging into the chest of the young warlock flashed once again through Kanan’s mind. No, he really didn’t. 

Kanan grimaced, choosing to ignore the comment. “Hey before you leave again, think you could help Ezra a bit?” Kanan asked. “Show him some tricks with the empath stuff.”

“Honestly, I’m surprised it took you this long to ask,” Cal replied with a faint laugh. It sounded strange in the bloodied room and he quickly blanched. “Although I don’t know how much help I’ll be.” He stepped away from the dresser, his face grim. “Okay let’s get this over with.”

Kanan watched as Cal gingerly touch what was left of the corpse’s shirt. Not even two seconds after making contact, Cal recoiled back, gasping, his eyes screwed shut.

“You okay?” Kanan asked, a gentle hand on the man’s shoulder. 

Cal shook his head, opening his eyes. They were distant, almost as if Cal were seeing something different than the room they were in. Kanan didn’t want to know what horrors lay beyond them **.**

“There’s too much feedback,” Cal said, a quiver in the words. “I—I need a minute.”

Skywalker appeared beside Cal (hell’s bells when did he come back?) wrapping an arm around his shoulder. He pulled the younger wizard off to the other side of the room, whispering words too quiet for Kanan to hear. 

Cal winced, repeatedly nodding his head, as Skywalker continued to talk. It was a rather strange sight, the Captain’s expression softer than Kanan had ever seen it. Fond, would be the word he would used to describe it. The fondness of a teacher or even a parent. 

It was a look Kanan had seen on Skywalker’s face many times before. But it had been reserved for only one person. His pupil, or rather former pupil, Ahsoka Tano. She had chosen to leave the White Council. No one knew why, though there had been plenty of rumors. The incident had rocked every member to the core. It simply wasn’t done. Kanan had still only been an apprentice, but he could vividly remember the aftermath. The fear from Senior Council that more would follow her. 

Alarm bells rang in Kanan’s head as he watched the two others converse. Nothing against Cal, but he wasn’t exactly the heaviest hitter. His combat magic was nothing to sneeze at, but like Ezra he excelled at gentler magic. 

Skywalker was the opposite, his magic brutal and blunt. He had at least twenty more years of experience and every one of them showed. Kanan had once witnessed the man take down an entire pack of ravaging ghouls entirely on his own. 

Why had Skywalker only entrusted Cal with this? Why not Barriss or any of the other Wardens? Cal was by far the youngest, the least experienced. And while it wasn’t uncommon for older wizards to mentor younger ones, ever after they had shed their apprentice status, they usually chose those who specialized in similar magic **.**

Skywalker spared a second to shoot Kanan a significant stern look, and Kanan took it as his cue to busy himself with something else. He walked over the bed, telling the little voice that kept warning him to run, that the body wasn’t really a person. Nothing more than a prop from some torture porn horror film. Of course, the voice was smarter than that and only increased in volume. 

Exactly what he was even looking for, Kanan didn’t know. It wasn’t as if the killer would be dumb enough to leave a bloody footprint or strand of hair. Hell, most likely the culprit hadn’t even been in the house, conducting the spell from afar. 

Something about this whole scene wasn’t right. If Kanan hadn’t known about magic, he’d assumed it had been a freak animal attack, or a demented serial killer. While he didn’t have anything close to Ezra’s gift for sensing magical energy, something this horrific should have left some imprint that even he could feel. 

He heard Cal say something about getting air again but didn’t turn to acknowledge him. His brow furrowed, something small and shiny catching his attention. A coin lay just under the bed frame. Blood pooled around it, but the coin remained unsoiled. He kneeled down to pick it up.

“No!” 

Kanan swore as a hand gripped him by the forearm, wrenching him away from the coin. Captain Skywalker’s eyes were wide, alarm plastered all over his face. 

“Don’t touch it,” Skywalker hissed quietly. “If it comes in contact with your skin, you’re screwed.” Using his right hand, the one covered in a thick leather glove covering up some old injury, he picked up the silver coin. Then ripping a small strip off his Warden’s cloak, he wrapped the coin tightly and put it in his pocket. 

Helping Kanan to his feet, Skywalker said “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Kanan blinked, his eyes on the man’s pocket. “What the hell is that thing?”

Skywalker grimaced. “It’s better if you don’t know.”

“With all due respect, _Sir_ ,” Kanan replied, his tone icier than he intended. “If we’re going to figure out what the hell happened here, we need all the information.”

Skywalker regarded him with cool, calculating eyes. One did not simply question one of the most powerful wizards in the world. Perhaps _the_ most powerful now that the Senior Council was gone. For a moment Kanan expected the Captain to admonish him for contesting his authority, but then Skywalker gave a terse nod, and sighed. “Have you heard of the Fallen?”

* * *

Kanan had been unusually quiet ever since he’d left the townhouse. A persistent frown was etched on his face as he drove.

“Uh, Kanan I think you’re going the wrong way,” Ezra said, as the man passed their street. 

The corners of Kanan’s mouth twitched upward. “We’re not going back to the apartment. I picked up a shift tonight earlier. Old Jho isn’t feeling well and he needs me to close the pub.”

“Oh okay. I’ll walk home.”

Kanan let out a bark of laughter. “Oh no. You’re helping me out tonight. Maybe next time you won’t feel the need to sneak along.”

Ezra wanted to snap back something about child labor laws, but decided against it. Honestly, he’d helped out Jho in the past for some pocket money, though he wasn’t quite sure he should mention that to Kanan. 

The night was slow, and Ezra spent most of it in the small back kitchen, away from everyone else, cleaning dishes and helping prepare food. Finally, around one in the morning, after the last of the patrons had left, Kanan stuck his head into the kitchen. “Come on, kid”

The street where Kanan had parked his truck was eerily quiet and empty, even for the late hour.

Kanan slung his arm around Ezra’s shoulder as they made their way to it. He pulled out a small wad of folded bills. “Here,” he said, handing it to Ezra, “Only fair you get some of the tips.”

Ezra muttered a thanks, pocketing the money. He paused, shivering as unexpected cold swept through him. It was different from the chill of the early November wind, strange and almost—Slimy?

“You okay, kid?”

“Yeah I—Hey, is something wrong with the truck?”

“What the hell?” Kanan broke away from him. As Ezra got closer, he could see the damage more clearly. The truck had been seriously messed with. All four of the tires had been slashed, the side windows smashed in. 

“A prank?” Ezra asked as Kanan inspected the tires. 

Kanan’s brow furrowed, standing up. “I don’t—”

All the streetlamps went out. 

“Hell’s bells, that’s not good.” Kanan reached into the back seat and pulled out his staff. It stood just as tall as he did, the runes carved into it glowing a faint blue as Kanan gathered his power. Sharp eyes searched widely around them. “Ezra,” he said quietly. ‘I want you to—”

He broke off, his head snapping up. Before Ezra could speak Kanan grabbed him, shoving him away from the truck. There was a pulse of energy as Kanan’s shield went up around the two of them. Less than a heartbeat later, raw force smashed into the shield, deafening noise filling the air. Kanan and Ezra were launched away from the truck onto the sidewalk as light sliced through the darkness. Ezra fell hard on his shoulder, his head smacking against the concrete. Pain erupted from his forehead.

Everything spun as he lifted himself up, ears still ringing from the explosion. Warmth spread across his forehead as something began to drip down his face. He winced, the light from the blazing truck sending a roll of nausea through him. “Kanan?” 

“Come on, kid.” Kanan seized Ezra by his shirt and hauled him to his feet. “We need to get out of here.”

“Kanan,” he gasped. “I don’t—what’s going on?”

“Doesn’t seem too difficult to understand,” said a cool voice. Ezra’s gaze went to the source of the noise, a tall slender figure emerging from an alleyway. An older man, wearing a pristine suit that seemed out of place in its surroundings, stepped toward them. Silver eyes shone in in the moonlight. 

Ezra sensed, rather than saw, Kanan tense. The glowing light on his staff grew brighter. 

“What do you want?” he barked at the stranger.

The man’s eyes flickered to Ezra, a faint almost knowing smile tugging at his lips, before once against settling on Kanan. “Isn’t it obvious?” He spoke in a refined manner, the hint of an accent Ezra had only ever heard in movies. “Today, wizard, will be your last.”

“Yeah, I don’t think so,” Kanan replied calmly. Then in a voice full of granite he uttered, “ _Fuerza.”_

Kinetic energy burst from his staff. But it wasn’t aimed at the man. The fire escape hanging by the man’s head came toppling down on top on him, crushing him before he could even react.

Nervous laughter bubbled up from Ezra’s throat, his head still throbbing. “That was easy.”

Kanan turned to look at him, eyebrows raised. “Kid, did you really have to say that?”

As if on cue, a horrible screeching noise tore through the air. The pile of metal hurtled toward them, Kanan shoving Ezra out of harm’s way with less than a breath to spare. The man stood up, striding toward them as if nothing had even happened. No indication that seconds ago few hundred pounds had crashed down on him. Not so much as a scratch. 

“I do admire your persistence,” he said in a voice crisper than the autumn air. “Ready to die?”

And then a second pair of eyes opened above the first. They glowed brightly in the dark, a sickly yellow like toxic sludge. Vicious red markings began to swirl on his face as he strode toward them.

The man—or thing—opened its mouth wide, teeth lengthening and sharpening to points, strongly reminding Ezra of a walrus. In fact, if he hadn’t been terrified out of his mind, he probably would have laughed at the ridiculous sight.

“Kanan, what the fuck is that thing?”

“Nothing good,” Kanan yelled, pushing Ezra behind him. “Run!”

Ezra could hear the thing cackling behind them as they fled down the street. Kanan muttered under his breath, his power swelling all around him as he conjured it forth. Then the sound of Kanan’s steps ceased and Ezra halted, whipping around. 

Kanan had planted his feet, facing the thing. He slammed his staff on the sidewalk and shouted in a booming voice. “ _Viento!”_

Even at a distance Ezra felt the rush of cold as wind gusted toward the thing. Everything in its path from scattered leaves to trash cans went flying. But the thing barely stumbled, as if Kanan had merely tried to blow on him like a candle. Kanan glanced back, eyes frantic. “Ezra, run,” he ordered. 

But Ezra couldn’t. His heart pounded louder than thunder in his ears, adrenaline crashing though him, stronger than he’d ever experienced. It overwhelmed him, freezing his legs in place. And then he realized it wasn’t just now own fear he was feeling, but Kanan’s as well. It clawed at his chest, a horrible suffocating sensation. And that alone frightened Ezra more than any creature ever could. He’d never seen Kanan afraid. Angry and disgusted, yes. But never this stark terror. 

“Ezra, go!” Kanan shouted again. “I’ll be right behind you.”

And then the air around them went hot and Kanan was thrown backwards by an invisible force. 

“Kanan!”

Kanan landed at Ezra’s feet and went still. His staff clattered a few feet away, but before Ezra could grab it, there was another surge of energy and it snapped in two, it’s blue light flickering out.

Ezra’s head jerked up as the thing stalked toward them. He placed himself between Kanan and the creature. “Get away from him,” he snarled.

_Yes, use that anger._

Though the voice was his own, the thought didn’t belong to him. There was power behind it, a pressure to listen and obey.

The thing scoffed, both pair of eyes gleaming. “Don’t be an idiot, boy. If this excuse for a wizard can’t defeat me, what makes you think a child can?”

_Your passion gives you strength._

The voice now sounded distorted, a mixture of his own with one he was certain he had heard before. Honeyed and patient, like a parent encouraging a toddler to walk for the first time. 

“I said,” Ezra replied, mustering as much grit as he could, “Get. Away. From. Him.

The thing grinned wolfishly as it took another step forward, almost upon them.

_Through that strength you gain power._

No semblance of Ezra remained in the voice. It grew in volume, dripping with hungry anticipation. This should have frightened him more than it did, but there were more important things to focus on right now. And the voice was right.

Ezra closed his eyes, reaching inside for the source of his magic. In his mind, he’d always imagined it as a deep pool waiting and ready. Before he had only taken timid sips, but now was not the time for subtlety. Power unlike any he’d ever felt before simmered below the surface, imploring him to use it with an almost aching feeling, similar to a dog waiting for its owner to return home. Ezra seized the power, bringing it forth. 

But sheer will wasn’t enough. Intense heat bubbled up in his stomach and Ezra latched onto it, mixing it with his magic, feeling the forces surge together. A raging storm eager to be freed.

_You must break your chains._

Channeling all his anger, all his fear, he bellowed out a word he’d never heard before, but knew to be right.

“ _SAUD!”_

Fire, feral and rampant, lashed up from the ground. The strong scent of rotten eggs overwhelmed the air, joined quicky after by burning flesh, as the flames engulfed everything it touched, including the creature. He writhed, screaming in utter agony; the noise a jagged saw tearing into Ezra’s skull. Blazing yellow eyes did not leave Ezra’s face as the thing burned before him. 

And then it muttered something and the space around him crackled with energy. There was a sound, like fabric being ripped apart. What Ezra could only describe as a hole, appeared in the air. Almost as if reality itself had been ruptured. Vague menacing shadows lay beyond it, Ezra’s skin crawling at the sight. The thing stepped through the hole and vanished. Then the air crackled again and was whole once more.

Ezra blinked, his mind needing a moment to catch up to whatever the hell had just happened. He swayed slightly on his feet as the remaining flames began to die down. Without the strength of their heat, he suddenly found himself unbearably cold. Shivers overtook him and he wrapped his arms around himself. It did nothing to help. All his anger and energy had fed the spell and now that it was over, nothing remained but a horribly emptiness. The cold seemed to take advantage of this, filling every space it touched. 

“Ezra?”

Kanan’s voice flooded him with warmth, chasing away enough of the cold to break him out of his stupor. He turned as Kanan lifted himself off of the ground. Kanan’s wide eyes searched the wreckage before him. Ezra’s chest squeezed with relief, a manic laugh escaping his lips. He started to move toward Kanan. All he managed was one step before the world blurred.

And everything went blissfully dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading, I hope you enjoyed it! Feel free to let me know your thoughts. Thanks to everyone who has commented, means the absolute world. 
> 
> I didn't use the exact words for spells that Dresden does in the books, but they are very similar in that Kanan uses Spanish. As for Ezra, according to the translator I found, Saud is Sith for fire.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I just want to give a huge thanks to everyone for reading and commenting. It means the world. The end of the year flew by, so sorry this took so long. I hope you like it.

Someone was shaking him. They repeated his name, their voice growing more urgent with each iteration. Off in the distant sirens blared in a rising crescendo. Clinging to the noise he desperately tried to climb out of the blackness. But then it crashed over him, pulling him under once more. 

* * *

Ezra woke with a gasp, jolting back into awareness. Gingerly he sat up, hands clutching his forehead in anticipation of dizziness. None came. 

Cautiously, he assessed his surroundings. The walls of the room were painted a garish burnt orange and plastered with various superhero and sports posters. A small desk sat across from him. Comics littered its surface as well as were stacked on the floor amongst piles of scattered clothing and toys. He stared down at the bed, its frame an electric blue race car.

Ezra blinked. This was his room. His _childhood_ bedroom. The one he had not seen since his parents had died. A room that hadn’t existed for an entire decade. 

What the actual fuck?

He leapt to the door and grasped the doorknob. It refused to turn. “Kanan?” he shouted, banging his fist. “Anyone here?”

Only silence met him.

“Great,” he mumbled, leaning his head against the wood. How was he going to get out of here? Wherever the hell this was.

“I know where you are,” said a familiar voice from behind him. “You’re with me.”

* * *

Kanan perched on the edge of a chair, running his fingers through his hair. He watched the slow rise and fall of Ezra’s chest as the boy slept. The bandage Hera had used to treat the gash on the kid’s forehead glared at Kanan, a relentless reminder of his failure.

Currently it was taking all of Kanan’s will power not to pick up the kid and bring him to a hospital. But hospitals meant electronics. And frankly the last thing Kanan needed was to accidentally kill some poor bastard by shorting out his ventilator. 

And besides what was he supposed to tell them? The kid had used magic way beyond his limit and passed out? Hell, even if they didn’t think he was nuts, it wasn’t as if there was anything they could actually do. Ezra just needed rest and time for his body to restore the energy he’d spent.

Kanan felt a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Love, why don’t you sleep for a bit?” Hera asked. 

“No, I can’t,” he murmured. “Not until Ezra wakes up.”

Hera sat on the edge of the bed, moving a strand of Ezra’s hair out of his face. “Sitting here, staring at him isn’t going to speed that up. You’ve been up all night.”

“I can’t. Besides, I called Cal to come over. He should be here soon.” 

Hera nodded. “Okay, let’s at least get some food in you.” She took Kanan by the hand and led him out into the kitchen. He made tiny protests as she began pulling a cartoon of eggs out of the refrigerator, but at her insistence sat at the table. 

Minutes later she placed a plate in front of him. “Eat.”

He had almost cleared his plate when he felt a familiar stir of power at the door, the sign of his wards warning of someone approaching and he stood up to answer it. Erring on the side of caution, he instinctively reached for his staff, only to wince once he remembered he no longer had it.

He opened the door but didn’t drop the wards right away. Most likely it was Cal, but after the events of tonight he’d rather not risk it. His caution proved to be unnecessary as Cal grinned back at him. “Man, you look like hell.”

Kanan chose to ignore the comment, stepping aside to let his friend in. “Was anyone around?”

“Just a few cops expecting the damage,” Cal answered. “But I went under a veil, so no one saw me.” He let loose a low whistle. “You really did a number on that fire escape.”

Kanan grimaced. “Yeah. One of the many fun questions the police asked me this morning.” 

Hell’s bells, that had been an awkward conversation. He’d managed to get Ezra home before the police arrived on the scene. However, it hadn’t taken them long after to look up the truck’s registration. After spending the better part of an hour explaining he’d decided to walk home, and therefore hadn’t seen anything, they’d finally left. Though not before subtly threatening him that they’d probably have more questions later.

“Honestly if it weren’t for Hera,” Kanan continued, “they’d probably taken me to the station.” He kissed her softly on the shoulder. “Thanks again for the alibi, babe.”

“You’re welcome,” Hera said wryly. “I do love committing felonies for you.”

“I did manage to find this.” Cal reached into his bag, pulling out two long pieces of wood. “I know you can’t fix it, but I figured you’d want it back.”

Kanan took the pieces of his broken staff, a small feeling of grief in the pit of his stomach. It was going to be a pain to build a new one. At least he wouldn’t have to try to carve the runes based on memory. “Thanks. It’s about time I showed Ezra how to make one of these. Especially after tonight.”

“How is he?” Cal asked. 

“He woke up for a second earlier.” Kanan ran his fingers through his hair. Hell’s bells he needed a shower. And to sleep for an entire day. But all that would have to wait. “He’s been out now for a few hours. I’m gonna try to wake him up in a bit. Whatever spell he used wiped him out pretty good.”

“Any idea what attacked you?”

Kanan’s jaw clenched. When the creature had first appeared, he’d recognized it right away. Those unmistakable silver eyes. And then the fear that had flooded through him. So intense he could barely focus. It had taken all his will just to conjure a few simple spells. 

“White Court,” he replied, a growl in his voice. “That’s the second one in two days I’ve encountered.”

Maybe it was his anger or maybe his exhaustion, but for the first time in as far as he could remember, his control slipped. The air around him crackled with energy. As if he were a teenager and not a fully trained wizard. Cal’s green eyes widened as the overhead lamp sparked and blew out.

Hera gently touched his arm. “Kanan.”

The softness of her voice grounded him, and the energy fizzled out. “I’m sorry,” he said. He took a deep breath, allowing his emotions to settle. He _hated_ how those creatures could get into his head. Make him feel helpless. If the kid hadn’t pulled off some impressive magic, they’d both be dead right now. And it shouldn’t be that way. Kanan was supposed to be protecting Ezra, not the other way around. 

But right now he needed to focus on the larger problem.

“Something about this one was different,” Kanan said. “It changed. Like something out of a nightmare.” He swallowed, debating his next words. Skywalker had asked him not to disclose their discussion from yesterday with anyone. But surely that hadn’t included Cal. And even if it had, Kanan needed to warn his friend of the potential danger. “What do you know about the Fallen?”

Confusion flashed across Cal’s face. “As in like fallen angels?”

“Yeah.”

Cal rubbed at the back of his neck before answering. “Just stories, but I’m not exactly religious, Kanan. You think they’re real?” 

Before tonight, the answer would have been absolutely not. What little the Captain had told him sounded insane. But Kanan couldn’t deny what he’d seen. And he’d be a fool to think he understood everything that existed in the supernatural world. 

“Captain Skywalker seems to think so,” he said. “And you and I have dealt with plenty of stuff that most people don’t believe in.” 

Cal’s eyebrows drew together, but he didn’t say anything.

Kanan stood up to grab the legal pad he’d used earlier. “Take a look at this.”

The creases in Cal’s forehead deepened as he studied the drawing sketched on the page. “What is it?”

“The sigil from a coin I found at the crime scene. I only got a quick glimpse, but I’m pretty sure I got it close enough. Skywalker was pretty freaked out about it. Says these coins belong to the Order of the Blackened Denarius. Ring any bells?”

Cal shook his head, a strange expression on his face. 

Hera eyed the sigil. “Denarius? As in the Roman coins?”

“I guess,” Kanan replied. “Think that’s significant?”

“I’m not sure.” She continued staring at the drawing, her lips pursed as if in deep thought. 

“According to myth or whatever,” Kanan said, “these fallen angels bound themselves to these coins. Touching one opens you up to their influence. Allows them to manipulate—” He broke off. “Hey, you okay?”

Cal’s face had drained of all color. His hands gripped the edge of the table, shaking slightly. 

“Cal?” Kanan touched the man’s shoulder. Cal flinched.

“Sorry,” he mumbled. “I…” He trailed off, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment. “When I touched the body back at the house there was so much feedback. All this pain and anger. But there was something else. I’d never sensed anything like it before. This feeling that someone else was there.” He bit his lip. “Like they were pulling the strings.”

* * *

Ezra whipped around. A man, who had most definitely not been there a second ago, leaned against the desk, muscular arms folded across his chest. The combination of his height, short dark hair, and strong jaw reminded Ezra strongly of the superhero poster on the wall behind him. He watched Ezra intently, dark brown eyes sparkling with amusement. 

“Finally, we can talk,” the man said. His gaze darted around the room; his nose scrunched. “Interesting choice of venue. A bit…colorful for my taste. But your mind supplied the location. I merely sharpened the image.”

Though positive he had never seen the man before, Ezra recognized the voice. The same low voice that had whispered in his mind right before—

The monster, the fire. It all came rushing back to him.

“Kanan!” he shouted. “What happened? Is he okay?”

Something ugly flickered across the man’s face. And then it was gone, leaving Ezra to wonder if he’d imagined it. 

“Your teacher is safe,” the man replied. Though his tone was soothing, the timbre of his voice prickled at Ezra’s skin. It had a slight edge to it. One that didn’t sound entirely human. “You both are. Right now, you’re at home, sleeping. We don’t have much time. No doubt one of your friends will wake you shortly.”

Wait, what? Ezra rubbed at his forehead, attempting to process everything. None of this made any sense. 

“Hold up,” he said. “Who _are_ you?”

“I think you already know the answer.”

Despite his efforts, Ezra couldn’t suppress the shiver that ran down his spine. Something cold pressed against the skin of his right hand. He uncurled his fingers, already knowing what he would find. The silver coin lay against his palm.

“The voice I’ve been hearing,” he said quietly. He lifted his gaze back to the man. “But how? I don’t understand.” 

“By picking up my coin, you invited me in,” the man replied. “Granted me permission into your mind. And what an interesting mind it is, Ezra Bridger.”

Ezra stared at the coin, feeling his heart begin to race. Just by the simple act of touching a coin, he’d allowed a complete stranger access to his head. He’d never heard of anything like it. It certainly wasn’t mind magic, that wasn’t how that worked. Who the hell was this guy?

“My apologies,” the man responded, though Ezra had not spoken out loud. “You may call me Maul.”

Ezra gaped at him. This whole situation was growing crazier by the second. His chest tightened, the edges of his vision turning fuzzy. Hell’s bells, he was going to pass out again. 

Maul chuckled, the sound carrying very little warmth. “As I have said, you are already asleep. This is all going on in your head. You are in no danger of losing consciousness.”

As soon as he said the words, Ezra’s dizziness disappeared. Still the anxiety lingered. All this time Maul had been lurking in his head, hearing his thoughts. How much exactly had he seen? Did he know what Ezra had done to—?

_No._ Ezra shoved the memory back into the box he locked it away in. If Maul didn’t already know about it, then Ezra wasn’t about to give him the opportunity. The man’s steady gaze watched him, but he gave no reaction to the thought. 

Ezra straightened, lifting his chin in his best attempt to appear confident. “So, ever since I picked up the coin, you’ve been in my head. Why are you just now showing your face?" 

To Ezra’s confusion, the corners of Maul's lips twitched upwards as if he was enjoying a private joke. “I had my foot in the door, so to speak. But could do very little without your consent.”

“And how the hell did I consent?” He racked his brain, trying to remember the events leading up to all this. The creature descending. The unexpected surge of magic. 

“Yes,” Maul said, eyes gleaming. “You accepted my offer of power. By utilizing my hellfire, you further strengthened our connection, which is why we can now communicate directly.”

A strong scent of rotten eggs overwhelmed the room. It stung Ezra’s nose for a moment and then quickly dispersed. No, not rotten eggs. Sulfur. 

“The fire spell,” he said. “That was hellfire?”

Maul nodded. 

“So, what you’re a demon?”

He’d never personally seen one, but Kanan had explained the basics. Mostly to advise Ezra that summoning a demon was one of the dumbest thing a wizard could do. And quite possibly the last.

“No,” Maul said severely. Perhaps it was his imagination, but Ezra swore the temperature in the room dropped a few degrees with the answer. Maul continued, his tone calmer, “I am not so lowly as a simple-minded demon. But it doesn’t matter what I am. What matters is what I can offer you.”

An icy thrill shuddered through Ezra. One that he couldn’t quite decide if he enjoyed or not. “Like what?” 

Maul’s mouth twisted into a smile. “More than a lifetime of knowledge. That fire spell is child’s play compared to what I can teach you. I’ve seen inside your mind, Ezra. I know the extent of your power.” He reached out to touch Ezra’s shoulder. “Your hunger to learn.”

Ezra pulled himself from under the man’s grasp, sitting back down on the edge of the bed. The offer was, well honestly the offer was tempting. Hadn’t he been trying to learn as much magic as he could? Even though Kanan had returned, he didn’t seem all that eager to resume Ezra’s studies. Choosing instead to get involved in more Warden affairs. Leaving Ezra behind once again. 

He cringed, guilt crashing through him. Kanan had just put himself in between Ezra and a literal monster in order to protect him. He’d given Ezra a chance to escape, at the possible expense of his own life. 

“You sense something is coming,” Maul said. “Someone tried to kill your teacher. If not for the power I gave you, he’d most likely be dead.” 

That was true. Ezra’s own gifts would have been useless against the creature that attacked him. Veils, illusions. He was so unprepared for a fight. And ever since the night the Senior Council had been wiped out, a fight had been building. He’d heard the gossip at the pub, heard Kanan’s stories from the past year. Practitioners disappearing. Creatures who normally stuck to the shadows, attacking in broad daylight. Tension in the supernatural community was brewing. It was only a matter of time before everything boiled over. 

And what would Ezra be doing during all that? Hiding behind a veil? Sitting helplessly while Kanan battled on the front lines?

No. He refused to do nothing while others fought. To allow his friends to risk their lives. Whatever was coming, Ezra wanted to be involved.

And yet, a tiny voice of logic sounded in the back of his mind. One that greatly resembled Kanan’s. Nothing came for free. Not even magic. Whether the cost was his own energy or (as he’d once learned the hard way) someone else’s sanity, _everything_ had a price. 

“What do you get out of this?” Ezra asked. 

Maul shrugged. “What good is information if you can’t share it?”

Ezra studied Maul. No being with vast knowledge and power shared it out of the mere goodness of their heart. Maul was concealing his true intentions.

Laughter burst from the man, causing Ezra to flinch. “Ezra Bridger,” he said, grinning. “You are certainly far more perceptible than my last host.” He held up his hands as if surrendering. “I admit I have selfish reasons. Without a host I cannot interact with this world. I barely exist, trapped in the dark. By accepting my offer, you allow me freedom.”

Maul’s words sounded sincere, but still Ezra’s suspicion remained. And frankly he wasn’t too keen on Maul’s choice of the word _host._ It reminded him too strongly of a parasite, consuming its prey until there was nothing left but a husk. Discarded and forgotten. 

“I assure you, that is not my intention,” Maul said. “Host is just the simplest terminology for my relationship with those who pick up my coin. My presence in exchange for occasional knowledge. Some choose to use me sparingly, never fully reaching the potential I offer them. They remain weak.” He moved toward Ezra, kneeling before him so that their eyes were on the same level. “But you, Ezra Bridger, are something special. I believe was can be more. You are not just a host, but an apprentice. Let me teach you.” 

For a moment he’d been so certain he’d say yes, only to hold back. Maul’s word were like a stab to the chest. Apprentice and teacher. Could he really trust this stranger over Kanan? The man who had kept him safe these past two years. The closest thing he had to family?

But tonight’s events had proven Kanan couldn’t protect him forever. And Kanan himself wasn’t infallible. It wasn’t fair for him to put himself in harms way just for Ezra. If something ever happened to Kanan because of him, Ezra would never forgive himself.

“Yes,” Maul said. “You care for your teacher, but you also fear for him. Accept my offer and I can ensure you that you will have the power to protect your friends. With my help you will reach your true potential.”

Ezra stared down at the coin in his hand. Star and stones, he wanted to say yes, but something kept nudging at him. Warning him this was a mistake.

Maul stood, holding out his hand. “It is your choice. In fact, if you wanted to right now, you could give up the coin. Will it free from you. And I’ll leave your mind with no consequence. At any time, you wish to walk away from our deal, you can.”

The doubt vanished. The second he felt over his head he could give up the coin and move on with his life. Besides, if Kanan wouldn’t teach him properly, maybe it was time for someone else to try. Ezra stood and clasped Maul’s hand, the weight of the coin pressed between their two palms. 

“Okay,” Ezra said. “Where do we start?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So in my head, "human" version of Maul, or at least how Ezra currently sees him, is Sam Witwer.
> 
> Happy new year! Hopefully 2021 is kinder to all of us.


End file.
